Collection
by Rellik 01011993
Summary: A collection of oneshot Supernatural x Bones crossovers. Reviews are always welcome.
1. Chapter 1

"Wait a sec." Dean stood up from his chair, hands cuffed in front of him. The guard paused in escorting the man Dean called Cas out of the room. Cas turned to face Dean, a small smile on his lips. He didn't seem surprised when Dean grabbed the lapels of his trench coat and pulled him in for a kiss. "You won't sit in a cell long, Cas, I'll see you soon."

Cas smiled at the suspected murderer, his eyes twinkling. "I know, Dean. You take care of yourself too, though. There have been enough beatings in custody to last you a lifetime. I don't want to add this one to the list." He leant in to run his nose along Dean's jaw before he turned back to the guard and allowed the man to lead him outside.

Doctor Sweets stared. Of all of the different ways he had tried to interpret their relationship _that_ had certainly not been one of the scenarios. Dean did not seem the sort to allow open affection with anyone, let alone a partner, let alone a male partner. It made Sweets wonder how they had met, for Dean to be so comfortable with affection, and to be the one to instigate it.

Booth was staring at the door Cas had left through. "Does he know everything you've been accused of Dean? A man like that does not seem the sort to forgive and forget multiple counts of murder…"

Dean leant back in his chair, relaxed now that he had seen Cas for himself. "Cas knows about everything I've ever done, or been accused of doing. He knows me better than I know myself." His eyes darkened for a moment with horror before he fought it away again. "And yet somehow…somehow he still sees _me_. He can see me more clearly than I see myself."

Sweets leant forward in interest. In past interrogations Dean had always seemed cocky to the point of narcissism. Now he seemed to not like himself at all. Seemed horrified by himself. "What happened, that makes you unclear on who you are Dean?" he kept his voice gentle, non-confronting. His 'shrink voice' as Booth called it.

Dean shook his head, trying to keep the memories at bay. "Too many things. Things done to me, things I've done, things I _didn't_ do…" his voice trailed off as the memories swamped his mind. He was accustomed to nightmares, used to looking over his shoulder, but he had yet to get the hang of these daytime horrors flooding his brain.

Before Booth or Sweets could do anything about the fact Dean was sucked in by his memories, Cas was standing beside the young hunter. Appearing, apparently, out of thin air. He placed a gentle hand carefully on his shoulder and squeezed gently. "Dean? Dean, I need you to come back." His voice was quiet, but gruff.

It took a moment but eventually Dean blinked slowly and stared intently at Cas. He took a deep breath and let it out noisily. "Well…that's not getting any better, is it?" he grimaced, leaning closer to Cas. He ignored Sweets and Booth, and the gun the agent had trained on Cas, for a moment before turning to face them. "Don't mind Cas – he has trouble staying put when I get lost in my head."

He tugged on the side of Cas' coat, guiding him to sit on the table beside Dean. "We need to talk to Missouri, Dean. She might know how to…fix it." His words were stilted, as if he was unsure of bringing up Missouri.

Dean's face paled considerably, enough to make Booth wonder if he should consider taking him to a hospital. "Cas, she…I haven't…" he took a deep breath, giving up on trying to find the words.

Cas rubbed a soothing hand up and down Dean's arm. "I know, she hasn't seen you since before you…went away. She understands you though, Dean, she'll understand why you did it." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. "She never judged you for your protectiveness of Sam, Dean. She accepted it from the start. She will accept this too."


	2. Chapter 2

Booth, Bones and Sweets walked into the observing room to watch Dean Winchester through the one way glass. As soon as they entered he looked up from where he had been staring at his hands and looked directly at them. Bones took a step back, despite knowing that the glass was one way and the rooms were sound proof apart from the microphones in the interrogation room.

"His perception is much keener than most other people." Sweets noted, crossing his arms.

Booth recognized the coldness in the young man's gaze; he saw it in every man who came home from war, though he had never seen one quite so cold or full of hatred. "Sweets, I need you to stay in here and pay attention to him. Bones, you're coming with me."

Booth sat down across from Dean and put a file between them, Bones standing behind him to his left. Dean barely glanced at the file before obviously dismissing it. "I'm Special Agent Booth, FBI."

"What happened to Agent Henricksen? I was just starting to like him…" Dean asked, completely ignoring Bones.

"He died in a gas explosion just after reporting you and your brother dead." Booth answered.

Dean frowned. "That's too bad. He was good at his job." He shook his head.

"Why did he say you and your brother were dead, Dean?" Bones asked, leaning on the table.

He shrugged. "Finally understood what we were always trying to tell him. He knew we weren't the bad guys but couldn't explain that to the bosses so he signed us off."

Booth nodded. "I've got to admit that most of the facts don't line up with you two being the suspects." Booth opened the file and looked down at it. "Though I didn't think you'd be caught in DC. I thought you would stay away from here."

Dean shrugged. "I've got a job to do, I can't choose when I do and don't do that job."

"Where is your brother? Judging by the file you two don't go anywhere without each other. The FBI needs to know where he is." Bones asked, sitting down beside Booth.

Booth saw a slight flicker of pain before Dean covered it up again with a smirk. "Sweetheart, if you want my brother you're going to have to find him yourself. I'm not going to hand him over to the _FBI_."

Sweets entered the room slowly. "What's the matter Dean? Did he leave you behind again? He went off to school once before. Where'd he go this time?"

Dean glared at the young psychologist. "What do you know? Hate psychology. That shit would get somewhere with Sammy." He leant back in his chair.

"I think you have abandonment issues." Sweets said, walking closer.

Dean's anger grew. "I think I have an issue with shrinks." He stood up, shifting his weight so subtly only Booth really picked up on it. "Do you have an issue with shutting up?"

"Your father was a Marine who disappeared with you and Sam when your mother died in a house fire. He dragged you and your brother all over the country. You were both entered in school for a couple of months at a time before moving on to another town. None of you stayed in one place for more than two months at a time until Sam entered in college."

Dean took a step toward him. "You keep your mouth shut about my family."

Booth leant forward. He understood the pain in Dean's eyes now. "He's not alive, is he?" he asked softly.

Dean closed his eyes for a moment. "Died about three months ago. If Cas had left me where I was Sammy would have been fine. But Cas pulled me out and that was welching the deal so they took his life back."

"Deal, what deal?" Bones asked, leaning forward as Dean sat back down.

Booth could see the weariness in the young man before him. Not only physical but mental as well. Dean was tired of everything. "Sammy died one year and seven months ago. Some kid severed his spinal cord with a hunting knife." He took a deep breath and looked up at Booth, his eyes haunted. "I went to a cross-roads demon and made a deal. Sammy's life for my soul. She gave me a year instead of ten but…Sammy was going to live so it was fair."

Sweets and Bones frowned, thinking he was crazy. Booth had a vague look in his eyes like he believed him.

"One condition; if I tried to get out of the deal Sammy would die again. The hounds dragged me down to the Pit at the end of the year and I was gone for four months according to Bobby. Cas dragged me out and Sammy died before I could find him."

"Your brother couldn't have been dead. Perhaps he was in a coma and you found a better doctor…" Bones tried to rationalize.

Dean looked at Bones and shook his head. "Don't believe me if you don't want to, doesn't matter." He frowned and looked back at Booth. "Is there anything I can do for you? You have all the facts to put a case together…"

Booth sighed, the guy was smart. "I've got this case at the moment that I can't make sense of. I thought you might be able to help me with it…you'll have to wear an electronic tracking band…"

Dean nodded. "If it's anything I can figure out I'd be happy to help."

xxx

Booth led Dean into the Jeffersonian. He swiped his security pass and indicated that he wanted Dean to follow him onto the platform where his team was working.

"Guys, this is Dean. He's going to help us with the case." Booth spoke as he leant his hips against an empty table. "That's Hodgins, he's the bug and slime guy. Andrew is Bones' grad student. Cam is the flesh person, and the boss. You've met Bones."

Dean nodded and pulled a handful of necklaces out of his pocket. "I don't care if you believe me or not but I would be a lot happier if all of you would wear these." He tossed one to each of the people standing in front of him.

"What are they?" Angela asked as she slipped hers over her head. She looked at the medallion. "The design is amazing."

"They'll stop a demon from possessing you." Bones made a funny face which Dean saw. "Look, even if you think I'm crazy and ranting, don't you think it's a good idea to keep the crazy guy happy?"

She nodded and slipped hers over her neck. Hodgins looked at Dean for a moment. "What about you?"

He sighed and pulled the collar of his shirt down so they could see his left shoulder. Booth took a deep breath; this guy was very serious about everything. "How long have you had that?"

Dean shrugged, letting go of the shirt. "Bobby gave us a couple of the medallions after Sam got possessed once. We wore them around for a while but when you fight the things we hunt…a necklace isn't likely to last too long." His attention went to the body of a woman lying on one of the tables. "Is that one of your victims?"

Booth nodded and Dean walked over to look at the body. He studied it closely, everyone was shocked to see him so professional and at ease around a dead body.

Cam and Bones walked over to stand a little away from the table. "Her injuries are strange. Some of the fatal ones had started trying to heal and then more fatal ones were made." Cam spoke.

"Judging by the blood pooling and how the skin around it had started to heal, this rib had been sticking through for a month or more." Bones added.

"We have no idea how she was able to survive some of these injuries long enough to start healing." Andrew said, pulling them up on a plasma screen.

Dean picked up a glove and looked at Cam and Bones. "Do you mind?" they nodded and he put the glove on. He opened the mouth and frowned. He carefully pushed one eyelid open and then pushed it back down.

He took the glove off and glanced at one of the computers. "Can I make a phone call?"

Booth threw him his mobile. "Put it on speaker. Sorry, but rules are rules."

' _What the hell do you want?"_ a man answered angrily after a moment.

"Bobby, it's Dean. I'm in DC…working with the FBI. Look, I need you to do some research for me. Need everything you can find on Tagyrt. He likes wearing a meat suit until it's all but dead and then abandoning ship. Strange way for one of them to kill but he isn't exactly sane."

" _I'll find what I can. Are you alright Dean? I haven't seen you since we found Sam…"_

"I'm fine. Listen, all I really need to know is how he chooses his meat suits. DC's too big to walk around spilling holy water on everyone."

" _You want to know how to exorcise him as well?"_ Bobby sounded slightly worried.

"If the body he's wearing when I find him is dead I'm not exorcising him. I don't want any of them climbing back out. Call me back on this number." He was about to hang up when Bobby spoke again.

" _Dean, you were in hell for four months and you got dragged back out just to lose your brother. I ain't normally one for talking but you need to work through it."_

"Bobby, I'm fine. Find that information for me as quick as you can, right?" and he hung up and turned to face everyone watching him. "It's a demon called Tagyrt. Not as nasty as they come but he still can cause some major damage if he gets the drop on you."

"Booth," Bones walked over to her partner. "Clearly this man is not in touch with reality. Why are we listening to him?" just at that moment a man appeared out of thin air in front of Dean.

"Dean, you're sick. You need me to fix it." His gravelly voice held no emotion.

"Whoa, where did he come from?" Hodgins asked, taking a step forward.

The man turned to face the others. "I'm Castiel, the angel that pulled Dean from hell."

"Yeah, effectively killing my brother. Go away, Cas, I'm working." Dean walked away from him to look inside a supply cupboard. Castiel followed him.

"Dean, your pride should not stand between you and your health. Let me take your burden. You do not have to carry it." Castiel spoke, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean spun. "It's mine to carry and you _will not_ take it. Now, get outta here before I find some way to smoke an angel." He growled.

Castiel disappeared and everyone stared at Dean in shock. Booth cleared his throat. "Are you sure you should have done that? Pissing off an angel can't be a terribly good idea…"

Dean shrugged. "If he didn't want me telling him to leave he should have left me in hell." He frowned. "Got any salt around here?"

"Umm, no. why would we have salt?" Bones asked, frowning in confusion. "And why do you want salt?"

"Very few supernatural things can cross a line of salt. Lay it down across a doorway it's better than ten tons of concrete. I'll have to go buy some I suppose." He turned around; he made it almost to the edge of the platform before turning back to Booth. "Can I have access to my car?"


	3. Chapter 3

Dean had worked with Booth and Brennan on several cases now and they were beginning to get used to him and the supernatural facts that came with him. It was a given now that when spooky things started to happen they would call him. He walked into the Jeffersonian and looked around. "Who let the ghost in?" he asked tiredly.

Brennan sighed. "A skeleton was brought in that wasn't run past the EMF detector. Unfortunately, whoever was on that shift forgot to tag them as they scanned them so we don't know which one it is."

Dean sighed. "How many bones have been brought in since the last one was tagged? And other artifacts as well." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Too many to make it a quick sweep. This is going to take forever." Angela sighed, entering the room with her optn laptop balanced on one arm. She had been trying to find a way to confine the search with no luck.

Dean nodded. "I'll be back in a minute." And he left again, leaving everyone staring where he had been.

"What was all that about?" Hodgins asked, walking over to Angela in hopes of getting some gossip. She shrugged and looked over at Booth; out of the entire team the one Dean seemed to get along with most was Booth. He shrugged, whatever was going on with Dean he hadn't mentioned it to Booth before.

Dean came back in with a young child on his hip and a bag in his spare hand. "Alright, Johnny, I need you to behave alright? Dad needs to work."

Johnny nodded. "Okay Daddy." He watched his father as he lay out a play mat on the floor. Protective symbols were embroidered over the mat and Latin phrases were around the edges. He lay a circle of salt around the edge of the mat and put the little boy in the middle.

"If you need me just holler, buddy." He kissed the little boy's forehead and walked back over to the platform. Everyone was staring at him. "What?"

"Dean, you've never told us you have a son before." Angela pointed out softly. "And it's not normal for a child to play on a mat that looks like that one."

Dean shrugged. "I didn't have one, always wanted one when I was small. It's good to know that nothing can get you." They saw the remembered horrors from his childhood shining in his eyes. "Especially when you know _exactly_ what there is that can get you."


	4. Chapter 4

Booth watched the two brothers from the end of the corridor. Considering they were in a cell the older one seemed completely at ease, lying on the cot with his eyes closed. The younger one was slightly more on edge regarding their whereabouts.

"Honestly, Dean, we're locked in a cell _inside_ the FBI building. How are we going to get out of this one?"

"Sammy, haven't you learned yet, the best plan is no plan. If we've got no plan there's no plan for them for figure out, is there Detective?" Dean raised his voice slightly, turning his head and opening his eyes to look at Booth.

Booth walked down so he was standing at the door of their cell. He didn't know how Dean had known he was there, and if he was being honest with himself it unnerved him. "I actually came down here to ask for a little help with a case I have. If you help me out I'll put in a good word for you with my superiors."

Sam glared at Booth. "You've got us locked in a cell because no one else can see that we're the good guys. And you expect us to work from this cell?"

Dean sat up and put his feet on the floor. "Sammy, we don't do what we do for human reactions. We do what we do to save people. Doesn't matter how it ends, only that we stop as many things between now and then that we possibly can." He walked over to the bars, Booth didn't fail to notice that his kept himself inside his cage, was careful about it. Dean had obviously been mistreated while he was in a cell in the past. "We'll help in any way we can."

Booth was slightly shocked that it was Dean who agreed, Sam appeared to be the more emotional of the two. Apparently, Dean was more dedicated to whatever it was that they did. All Booth knew was that Dean had once claimed all kinds of monsters were real on a confessional tape.

Dean cocked his head to one side. "How is it that an FBI agent is coming to us for help on a case?" he wasn't asking for praise, he just wanted to know what was going on.

Booth shrugged. "I read your records and nothing seems to line up. They say you did all of those things but generally people have died, you guys show up, the dying stops and you disappear again. Every time you show up the cases are unsolvable."

Dean smirked. "That explains how you're comfortable letting us help. It doesn't explain why you want our help."

"I've got this case. None of my team can make any sense of it. You might have a better chance with it." Booth leant against the wall opposite their cell.

"Are we working from in here or do we get let out to help with this case?" Sam asked sarcastically.

Booth nodded. "Once you agree to work with me on this case, I've got permission to let you out. With electronic tracking anklets, of course."

Dean looked over at his little brother for a moment. They didn't seem to communicate but Booth had the feeling that they had both come to the same decision and they both knew it. Dean nodded. "You've got a deal."

Booth took out his cell phone. "Jim, they've agreed. I need you to come down here and put to tracking anklets on them." He hung up. "You'll be out in no time, guys."

xxx

Booth led Dean and Sam onto the platform. For once, the entire team was there, arguing about the case. "No way can a normal person pull this sort of thing off. This is a government cover up." Hodgins was saying.

"Hodgins, why would the government try to cover up these murders? Just because something doesn't make sense does not mean the government has something to do with it." Angela replied, rolling her eyes.

"Guys?" Booth leant against a table, folding his arms. "These guys are here to help us figure out our case. They've got some experience with…strange cases."

Everyone turned to look at the brothers. Sam gave them an awkward smile and waved. "Hi, I'm Sam. That's my brother Dean." Sam nodded over to where Dean was looking over a body. He didn't touch it, which pleased Bones and Cam.

Booth winced, watching how close he was leaning to the body. Dean took a deep breath and frowned. He looked up at Booth. "Can I open her eyes?" Booth looked over at Cam. Until the flesh was removed the body belonged to her. She nodded, pointing to a box of gloves. Dean picked one up and pushed the eyelid up.

Everyone watched him closely. He closed his eyes wearily. "Sammy, I know who it is." He threw the glove in a rubbish bin.

"You know the victim? We're still trying to match her with a name. If you could point us in the right direction that would speed things up a bit." Angela spoke, stepping forward. She hated it when they had no name.

Dean hadn't looked away from Sam, his eyes were haunted. Booth looked over at Sam, he looked worried. "Who is it Dean? How do you know?"

Dean shook his head, a smirk rising to hide the horrors in his eyes. "That four month holiday? They tend to do a lot of talking." He shrugged. "I listened. Son of a bitch! Sammy, you still got that knife of Ruby's? We're not sending him back so he can get out again."

"What are you talking about? You two are going to help me put all of the facts together and then I'm going to deal with the suspect." Booth argued.

Dean raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "You don't understand the kinds of cases we work on, Agent Booth." Sam spoke. "I need you all to keep an open mind…" everyone around them nodded. "We hunt supernatural things."

Booth stared at the brothers for a moment. "So you're telling me that there are such things as demons and ghosts?" he paused for a moment, thinking. "What about God?"

Dean shrugged. "Met an angel a while ago. Can't say about any god, but I know for sure that angels are real."

"Dean, just tell them. We need to work with them, once they know it'll be easier than trying to keep it from them." Sam argued. He saw the stubborn look on his brother's face and sighed. "Dean went to the Pit a while ago." At their blank looks he continued. "Hell. I died and he made a deal with a cross-roads demon to bring me back. The price was his soul."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Drama queen." He looked back at the body. "I know the demon who was wearing her meat suit. He likes keeping them just below the surface while he does things…jumps off buildings, gets them shot, and then he changes outfits."

"You call her a meat suit?" Angela asked, clearly disgusted with the term and the man who used it so casually.

Dean shrugged. "That's what a body is. When you die the soul is gone and it's nothing but a meat suit again."

Bones stepped forward. "So you say you went to hell. I can understand how someone could think they've been, but your brother as well?"

Sam glared at her. "I buried his body after it had been torn to pieces by hell-hounds. He was buried for four months. Believe what you like, but the guy who's killing these people is actually a demon."


	5. Chapter 5

Booth was tied to a post, his hands behind his back; he could see Bones just to his right tied up the same way. The woman standing in front of him smirked, fiddling with the knife in her hand. There was a body at her feet, and Booth was fairly sure that the man had been an FBI agent.

"Now that I have you here I must decide what to do with you both…" a nasty grin appeared on her face and she walked over to Bones. "Perhaps the great doctor would like me to rearrange her facial features?" she glanced over to see Booth tense up as she circled Bones. She came back to Booth. "Or maybe you want to play FBI with a limp?"

"Or maybe you'd like a trip back downstairs?" a gruff voice asked from the doorway to the otherwise abandoned barn.

The woman spun to face the speaker. "Dean! What are you doing here? Last I heard you were downstairs yourself, an honored guest as it were." She sneered.

He shrugged, calmly rattling off a stream of what Booth knew to be Latin. The woman's head snapped backwards and dark smoke flew from her mouth and out of the open door. The woman fell, unconscious. The man rushed to her side and checked her pulse.

"Damn it!" he stood up and pulled a knife from the back of his jeans. "Wish the bastards would stop killing them so quick." He walked over to Bones and cut the ropes that were binding her hands behind the post. "You alright?" at her tense nod he went to Booth.

When Booth's hands were free the stranger nodded and was about to walk through the door. "What did you do to that woman?"

"Exorcism, what else would I have done?" his tone of voice said it was one of the stupidest questions he'd ever heard. "You're SUV's outside, you'll be fine to get back to wherever you came from?"

Bones shook her head. "No, we haven't finished our investigation! We can't leave till we find out who's been killing those people."

He took a step toward her. "You stupid woman! A demon near takes your face off and you want to stay and mess with the others? In case you didn't notice you two don't know how to handle these bastards."

Booth's face paled. "A demon? That's what that thing was?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, one from the lower ranks." Dean tilted his head to one side, thinking. "You two aren't going to try and play hero now, are you? This game is no place for amateurs." He rubbed a hand over his face. "Hell, it's no place for experienced hunters, let alone newbies. But someone's gotta do it."

"Why, why does someone have to do it?" Bones asked, taking a step closer to Booth. She couldn't quite read the emotions swirling in Dean's eyes and they frightened her. Booth was a comfort to her by just standing there.

"Because if we don't hunt the evil sons of bitches down no one will and they'd be able to kill whoever they wanted. And when the monsters and demons have free reign, that's when the world really starts to burn."


	6. Chapter 6

Booth was leaning against the rail on the platform, watching Brennan try to hurry Cam through her work. She was eager to get the bones cleaned off so she could do her part. From Booth's point of view Cam was doing a good job of ignoring her. Hodgins cleared his throat and Booth looked over to him, he pointed to the doorway with his chin. Booth turned to see a young man and a teenage boy standing there.

The man leant down and mumbled something in the boy's ear. He wandered off to have a look at a display case. The man approached slowly, stopping at the steps leading up to the platform. "That's my friend on that table." The young man said by way of greeting, tilting his head to the body Cam had just cut into. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at him. Cam pulled her scalpel back and put it down, upset that she had just cut into him in front of the young man.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the boy was out of hearing range. "Bobby and our Dad went out three weeks ago. I've been calling hospitals and police, scouring papers and obits since then, trying to find them."

Booth swiped his security card and indicated he wanted the young man to come onto the platform. "You can identify this man for me?"

The young man nodded. Picking up a pair of gloves he looked to Cam for permission. She gave permission and was shocked to find how easily the young man dealt with the dead body of his friend. He looked behind his left ear, felt the little toe on his right foot and checked the back of his neck. Finally he stepped back and nodded. "Bobby Singer, aged forty-five, widowed. No permanent address. If they left him where they killed him there'll be an F-Truck somewhere."

Booth nodded. "We found the truck. They haven't checked it for evidence yet." He glanced at the teenager who was engrossed in reading plaques around the room.

The man shook his head. "You won't find anything in his truck. Bobby only lets friends in his truck." He turned to keep an eye on the boy. "Sammy?" the boy turned to face him. "You might wanna ring Ellen; she's the best one to tell."

Pain flashed across the boy's features before he managed to wrestle it back under some semblance of control. He nodded curtly and pulled a mobile phone from his back pocket. The young man picked Cam's scalpel up and handed it to her.

Booth watched the younger brother trying to hold back tears. "Ellen? It's Sam. Dean found Bobby. No, FBI's going over his body trying to find evidence." Sam paused while the person on the other end of the line spoke. He let out a sad laugh. "No, don't know about Dad. We'll let you know when we do…"

Sam glanced up at his older brother who indicated he wanted to speak with Ellen. "Dean wants to have a word, Ellen." And he tossed the phone across the room to his brother.

"Ellen, I need you to keep an ear out for me…no, just let me know if you hear anything about Dad. No, I'll take care of Sammy." He paused, listening. Anger rushed into his eyes and he gritted his teeth. "Ellen, I've been taking care of the kid his whole life. I know what I'm doing."

He closed the phone and tossed it back to his brother. He was staring intently at Bobby's face when a frown crept across his face. He leaned a little closer and made a noise in the back of his throat. Cam looked up from where she had started working again, thinking she had upset him.

He pointed to a spot of pasty substance on Bobby's mouth. "Might want to collect some of that. Pretty sure it's sulphur though…"

"How do you know it's sulphur?" Hodgins asked, approaching with a swab to collect some of the substance, this was his area of work.

Dean shrugged. "Looks like it, smells like it." He glanced over his shoulder at his little brother again. He turned to Booth. "Got an office where he can do his homework? Kid doesn't need to hear all of this…"

Brennan stepped forward and felt Dean's attention shift to her. "He can use my office if he likes. There's a computer in there if he needs it…" she pointed to her office door and watched Dean leave the platform.

He collected Sam and walked him to the office, his hand on the kid's shoulder. He made sure he was all set up, checking he had everything he needed in his backpack. Before he left the room he ruffled around in his duffle bag and handed him a bag of M & M's. Dean was almost out of the room when Sam turned and asked him something.

The boy was obviously afraid of something. Dean walked back over to him, placing his hand on his shoulder. He looked into his eyes for a long time and finally spoke. The boy nodded and Dean left, closing the door behind him. Booth couldn't believe how well Dean handled the fears he had seen, while managing to hide his own.

He waited for Booth to swipe his security card again before entering the platform. Leaning against the railing, watching Cam work, he seemed relaxed. But Booth could see his gaze sweeping the area every now and then. Checking for danger, checking his brother. This young man was not ordinary. He was acting like some of the war veterans Booth knew. Like Booth himself had acted during and after the war. This young man had been through something huge, but there was still a fight for him to finish.

"So," Hodgins began, approaching Dean. "How'd you get stuck on little brother duty?" he leant against the railing next to the young man.

Dean shrugged. "Carried him out of a burning house when I was four. He's been my responsibility ever since, I guess." His gaze flickered back over to Sam, who was reading a text book. "Poor kid, doesn't need this right now…" he shook his head and turned his head to Booth. "You didn't happen to find a home made sawn off shotgun with the initials J.W…did you?"

Booth nodded and watched as Dean digested this information. He didn't show any emotions that Booth could find. He had to admit, he was impressed by this young man. He was very obviously a skilled warrior.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. "How about a leather journal? That's the only thing I can think of that'll give me any kind of answers…"

Booth swallowed. He didn't know what answers Dean was going to get from this but he really didn't like the idea of telling him the answer. "We found a leather journal about six feet from this man's body."

Dean nodded, still hiding all of his emotions and thoughts from everyone around him. His phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. Glancing at the number recognition as he brought the phone up to his ear. "Caleb, I haven't got any news on Dad yet. I found Bobby's body though." He stopped to listen. "No, FBI's going over it at the moment. Found sulphur…" he listened again and his eyes grew dark. "Damn it, Caleb, don't you think I told him not to go? I told him he'd need more than him and Bobby. Asked him to organize somewhere for Sammy to stay and take me along. But no, the old man had everything under control."

He listened, frowning, for a minute or so. His anger was becoming obvious now. "It's not my bloody fault, Caleb. Me and Sam only ever argue with him when we're certain of something. You'd think he'd listen to us, we've been doing it all of our lives…No, I don't need this from you. When I find Dad, and I will, you can sit with him and bitch together about how it's all my fault." He snapped the phone shut, swearing.

He looked up to find everyone staring at him. "Oh, shit." He looked over to his brother. Bringing two fingers to his mouth he let out a loud whistle. Sam spun away from the desk and came running to his brother.

"What is it, Dean? You okay?" the teenager asked, waiting for Booth to swipe the security card. He rushed to his brother, standing just in front of him. He could see the anger in his eyes.

"Just got a call from Caleb. Apparently it's my fault Bobby's dead and Dad's missing." He forced a grin onto his face. "Anyway, if we're going to find Dad we're going to need Booth's help. We need to tell him about everything we do…"

Sam opened his mouth to protest when he saw the resigned look in his brother's eyes. He didn't want to tell these people about what they did, but he _needed_ them to know. He nodded slowly and turned to the people watching them.

He smiled awkwardly. "Dean's not exactly good at communicating with people so…yeah." He glanced over at his brother.

Dean frowned, a thought suddenly occurring to him. "Any more of your team hiding somewhere other than here, Agent Booth? We don't want to go over this twice…"

Booth nodded and picked up a phone from the desk. "Angela? I need you to come up to the platform please." They waited a moment and then Angela was walking onto the platform. Booth saw Dean's eyes run over her. He seemed to be checking the young woman out, and he probably was, but he was also hiding the fact that he was checking for danger.

"Okay, I need you all to keep an open mind…if you have any doubts we can prove anything we say." Sam started, everyone nodded. "We hunt evil supernatural things. Demons, spirits, heaps of things."

Everyone stared at them both for a moment. Booth could see the very serious look on Dean's face and the resigned look on Sam's.

Brennan let out a laugh before pulling it back in. She had thought they were joking but the look in their eyes… "You're being serious… You really think –"

"We _know_ these things are real." Dean cut her off. He walked over to his friend's body. "The sulfur? It's a sign of demonic possession. It'd have to be one mean son of a bitch though cos Bobby's got protection against demon possession."

"I'm sorry but you're not mentally stable…" Brennan started again only to be ignored by Dean.

"I'm getting sick of this. Every time we gotta tell someone new we have to go through this shit." He glared at Brennan. "Demons, ghosts, wendigo, vampires, werewolves – they're all real. At the moment, we're hunting a demon."

Hodgins stepped forward. "Hey, man, I believe you but how the hell are you going to prove that?" he saw Dean wince. "Did I say something? Oh, you guys probably believe in hell, huh?" he smiled apologetically, thinking he had offended Dean as he often did Booth.

Dean winced again and Sam rested a hand gently on his shoulder. He grinned at his little brother. "Hey, at least I know it definitely happened, right? I couldn't dream half this stuff up if I tried."

A man appeared suddenly, standing in front of Dean. "Dean, you need to let me help you carry this burden. I can help you."

"No, Cas. You're not taking my memories. Do you realize how _useful_ they are? If you want to help, go find Dad." Dean snapped.

Cas sighed in frustration and turned to face the strangers who were staring at him. "I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord. You need to help these two as best you can. They have a larger part to play in this war." And he disappeared.

Booth stared at Dean. "You've got an angel watching over you?"

Dean frowned. "More like stalking me. Look, I need to find this demon before he can kill anyone else. Likely as not he'll be wearing Dad." He smiled apologetically at Sam. "Need to find him before he damages the body."

Angela frowned, confused. "What do you mean he'll be wearing your father? What are you talking about?"

Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Demons like to have a physical body. If you don't have protection against them they can climb into your body, put you in the back seat and take over the steering wheel. You can shoot someone in the heart while they're possessed and they'll keep coming at you. Unfortunately, once you get the demon out the body dies if it's damaged."

"We need to catch up to him before he gets a chance to get Dad shot or jump him off a bridge or something." Sam added in. "And before he kills anyone else."

"Sammy, I need you to look for signs and find the bastard. Damn I wish Demothi hadn't climbed out of the Pit." He started pacing. "He's a hard son of a bitch. Last time he was here he took out close to two thousand before someone managed to throw him back."

Sam frowned in confusion. "How'd you know his name, Dean? And if he's so bad he can't have been out for a long time or Dad would have taught us about him…"

Dean sighed. "I learnt a lot of things while I was down there, Sammy. Tried to tell Dad who it was but he wouldn't listen. Just barged off half-cocked as usual."

Sam's eyes brightened. "You mean you have insider info on demons? That'll come in handy."

Dean nodded. "Remember how I could see them before I went to the Pit?" Sam nodded hesitantly, he didn't want to remember those last couple of weeks. Dean trying to play it tough, trying to make his little brother smile. "Apparently if you stay long enough you get to keep that little toy."

xxx

Booth had decided that the entire team should stay at the Jeffersonian with the brothers. At least then everyone was around the young hunters should anything supernatural happen.

He watched in amazement as Dean did sit-ups, push-ups, and all sorts of exercises for well over two hours before lying down. Surely he didn't need to do that much exercise to stay in condition?

Booth finally fell asleep, only to wake up half an hour later to find Dean arguing with Cas. They were talking softly, Dean was obviously arguing. Booth got a little closer to hear what they were saying.

"Dean, you were in hell for a year. No human being is meant to carry those memories with them on earth. Let me take it." Cas' face held no expression.

"You're not sifting through my head, angel boy, so just keep out of there." Dean growled.

"You haven't slept in over a week, Dean. If I take hell from your mind you will be able to sleep again." Cas promised.

Dean shook his head. "Did you stop to think that perhaps hellfire is the only thing holding me together? Cas, a month up here is ten years down there." Cas opened his mouth but Dean lifted his finger to point accusingly at the angel. "And if you dare tell my brother about the timeframe I swear I'll find a way to kill an angel."

Cas disappeared and Dean slumped against the chair he was sitting in. Booth walked over, knowing that Dean knew he was there. "Why do you fight his help so hard?"

Dean grunted. "I've got my reasons. So, you soaked up our world a lot easier than most. Guess you're religious?"

Booth sat down beside him. "Catholic, I was an altar boy. This lot don't make it easy, though." He waved his hand over the sleeping scientific team. "They cut my religion down and half the time they don't even realize they're doing it."

Dean shrugged. "I've never been one for faith. I like things I can see and things I can kill. Since I've found out about angels I'm not too fond of them."

Booth leant forward. "Why not? Aren't they the good guys. Don't they represent what you fight for?"

Dean shook his head. "I kill the evil bastards so families can survive. I've never seen an angel show up in time to help or to kill some bastard. And they're always talking in riddles."

They sat together in silence for a while, each with their own thoughts. Booth, his curiosity finally getting the better of him, broke the easy silence. "If it's not too intrusive, why were you in hell?"

Dean closed his eyes, trying to hold the memories at bay. "Dad had gone off months before on some wild goose chase of a hunt and told me to take care of Sammy. I found a town with the least demonic signs and took him there. No way was I going to hunt and protect him at the same time. Things went fine for about a month and then some demon tracked us down and killed Sammy. I exorcised his meat suit and tried to get Sam to wake up." He was staring at something in his memory.

"He was so cold and pale. Never seen him so quiet before in my life. He was always asking some question, bugging me. Never realized just how much I loved him until he was gone. So, I took care of him. Summoned a cross-roads demon and made the deal. Bring Sam back and they can have my soul. She gave me a year to live and then they'd drag me down to the Pit." Booth could see Dean was reliving the horrors.

"I didn't tell Sammy about the deal for ages. He didn't remember dying. I woke up one morning and decided we needed to find Dad. If I was gonna die Sam would need Dad there to take care of him. Couldn't just leave the kid hanging. So we went looking for Dad. Found him a couple of weeks before the year was up…"

xxx

Booth suddenly realized that Dean was tense in anticipation. Dean could feel the drop in temperature, the static in the air and the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

"Sammy?" the boy was standing beside his brother in a moment, recognizing the sound in Dean's voice. The young man pulled a shotgun from the back of his trousers and checked it was loaded.

The gun suddenly flew out of his hands and a spirit appeared in front of the brothers, holding a meat hook. It swung back, intending to cut Sam's chest open. Dean saw the movement and stepped in front of his brother, his back to the spirit. Sam's eyes widened in fear for his brother.

Booth watched as the brothers' eyes met. Sam was scared for his brother, Dean was determined. No words passed between them but suddenly Sam straightened and went for the shotgun. The spirit flailed at Dean, ripping his back open five times before Sam returned with the gun. The gun fired and the spirit disappeared.

Booth was staring at the two warriors in front of him. They were very prepared for bad things to happen to them. Their unspoken communication was impressive to say the least, probably born from surviving many previous bad circumstances together. "What was that?"

The boys looked over at him. "Spirit. They're attached to their bones. We need to scan every skeleton in here for EMF and salt and burn the bones that sing." Dean smiled.

The entire team had come running at the sound of gunfire and now they were staring at Dean's back. "Oh my god…I'll go and get my first aid kit." Cam whispered.

"No," Sam's surprisingly strong voice shocked them all. "I've got it." The teenager helped his big brother to a backless chair and lowered him onto it. He grabbed his backpack that had been dropped in the corner of the room and pulled out a fully equipped first aid kit.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice was a little strained but most of his pain wasn't showing through. "You okay?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. But you're not. Damn, Dean, this is gonna take a lot of stitches. You want some pills…?"

The younger brother let his voice trail off when Dean shook his head adamantly. "Make me hallucinate, Sammy." He closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate. "You gotta check the bones, find where he's at." He clenched his teeth in pain, his knuckles going white.

Booth and Brennan were both shocked at how well Dean controlled his pain. They'd seen older men with lesser wounds screaming in agony. Dean didn't let one whimper or moan pass his lips.

"How about you tell the others how to scan while I do my job?" Sam asked quietly, pulling out a sterile cloth and water. He had to clean some of the blood away. He glanced at Dean's shirt and decided it was ruined, he could cut it off.

Everyone thought Dean was doing well to stay coherent, and now Sam expected him to talk them through something?

Dean closed his eyes and swallowed, gathering his thoughts. He opened them again slowly and looked up with startlingly clear green eyes at the team before him.

"Okay, spirits are attached to their bodies. To get rid of them you've gotta salt and burn the remains." Brennan tried to stifle a gasp but saw Dean smirk when he heard. "Sorry, Doc, nothing I can do about it. This guy is really dangerous, need to get rid of him." Sam slowly pulled the blood soaked rags of Dean's shirt away from his back. "Damn it, just rip it off Sammy." Dean barked over his shoulder.

"Sorry, sorry Dean. Once I get this off I'm gonna clean it and then put a circle of salt around us. Then we'll go from there." Sam prattled, trying to keep Dean's mind away from his back when Sam finally gave a quick tug and the shirt came away.

Dean's breath hitched but that was the only sign he was in extra pain. "If a spirit is attached to a body the remains give off a signal. Sam will give you some EMF scanners in a minute, if the reading goes high…yahtzee." Sam patted at the wounds with a dampened cloth, cleaning the blood away. "Okay, spirit defense one-oh-one. Salt repels them, hence Sammy's salt circle. Iron works too."

Angela cleared her throat unsteadily. "Umm, if he reappears will he still have a weapon?"

Dean nodded. "That hook is something he likes." He closed his eyes against a wave of pain, taking a deep breath. "Spirits get cranky when you go near their remains with intent. So you're searching in pairs, back to back. If he shows up you throw salt at him and keep going."

Brennan stared at Dean for a moment. "There are billions of remains here, how do we know where to start?"

"The hook isn't actually attached to him so that wasn't it." Dean mumbled to himself. "Clothes looked fairly recent, last fifty years or so, hair cut too." His eyes snapped up to Brennan. "I heard the others talking about Limbo before. Likely as not he'll be in there. Won't be on display anywhere, bones aren't old enough."

Booth was impressed by Dean, _again_. His attention to so much detail in such a quick scenario was remarkable. And the fact that he could call the details up while enduring such pain in silence spoke volumes as to how his life had gone so far. The FBI agent and ex-sniper didn't want to think of what things could turn such a young man into such a supreme warrior, especially considering his wounds and trials would have been inflicted by the supernatural.

xxx

It had been three days since Dean had been cut open by the spirit. He was lying on his stomach on one of the tables on the platform, after telling Cam not to start an autopsy on him. His wounds and the fact that he hadn't slept well in over a week were finally taking their toll; pushing him into unconsciousness for a few minutes at a time.

Booth leant against the railing, watching Dean's fitful sleep. Remembering how it had been for him when he had returned from the war. And this kid didn't have the luxury of leaving his war on the beaches of a far-off country. Once again the connection between the brothers was thrown into light. Dean would wake, mumbling in remembered agony. Sam would reach up from where he was sitting in a chair, reading a text book, beside his brother and touch his arm. Dean would calm slightly.

After several hours of this Dean's mind finally forced him to face something that Sam could never fix. His mumbles turned into full-sentenced protests. He was begging someone to stop torturing him. Naming specific tools that they were using, telling them to put it down.

Sam sat by, watching helplessly as his brother had no choice but to relive the torture he suffered in the Pit. Suddenly he cried out, gasping as he woke, his eyes full of pain.

Castiel appeared on Dean's other side, looking down at the wounded young man. "Dean, let me help you. I can take it all away…" he was begging almost as profusely as Dean had been moments before. "I can feel your agony, dull and aching, wherever I am. And then it suddenly jumps, as you remember."

Dean shook his head. "We talked about that, Cas. You're not pulling anything out of my head."

Castiel frowned in thought. "There is another way…it will be extremely painful. Probably worse than anything you experienced in hell but infinitely cleaner…"

"Cut out the riddles and talk straight, Cas. I'm not in the mood to go over what you say with a fine-toothed comb." Dean grumbled.

"If an angel chooses to cut out their grace and fall…they can choose a human recipient of the grace. It heals and cleans the soul as well as the body." Castiel spoke slowly.

Dean shook his head. "No. No one is cutting out any grace. No one is falling, especially not for me."

Castiel sighed. "I have a friend who wants to fall, Dean. He wants to cut out his grace but he wants to give it to someone who deserves it. He's been pondering candidates for nearly three hundred years. I will ask him to consider you, from a neutral stand-point."

Dean sighed. Tired of arguing, tired of trying to do the right thing. Tired of putting himself last. If someone wanted to help him get through this, he couldn't refuse it. Not anymore.

"Fine. But only if he agrees completely. I don't want anyone regretting this." Castiel nodded and was about to leave when Dean caught his forearm. "It won't turn me into anything else will it?"

Castiel frowned; he wished Dean hadn't thought to ask that question. "You will be an earth angel. Not connected to god, nothing expected of you more than there is now. But you will have some of our strengths. Also, you will not need to be in touch with heaven to…recharge your powers as most angels do." Castiel waited for Dean's consent, a slight nod from the young hunter and the angel left.

Sam sat up straighter in his chair, watching his brother closely. "Dean, please tell me you are honestly going to let Cas help you…?" he hated seeing his big brother in such agony.

Dean nodded slowly. "I'm considering it very seriously, Sammy. Who would have thought it – I could become an angel." A grin spread across his face. "Thought they'd pick the golden child for that." He poked Sam in the ribs.

Brennan leant against the table beside Dean's, studying him closely. Everyone else had stopped their work and were discreetly watching the young man.

"Can you tell us about the angels? He said you would have powers?" Brennan asked.

Dean shrugged. "They can kick demon ass when they feel like it. Appear and disappear, Cas likes that one." He frowned in thought, turning to Sam. "I've already got a body so I won't need a vessel…will I? I like this body."

Sam laughed, shocking everyone. The teenager was normally so serious. "I don't think you'll need a vessel Dean. Ask Cas when he comes back, if you're worried about it."


	7. Chapter 7

**Change from the canon aged gap between Dean and Sam.**

Booth looked up at the entrance to the lab to find a young man in his early twenties and a boy around twelve. The young man had a hand on the boy's shoulder, seeming to keep him in line in his excitement. The boy was about to run over to a display when the young man bent down and whispered something in his ear. He snapped to disciplined attention immediately.

Brennan noticed the two shortly after Booth and frowned in annoyance. Hodgins looked up from a tray of goop from the latest crime scene to notice the cause of Brennnan's annoyance. He walked over to the two strangers. "Can I help you?"

The young man nodded. "I'm here to see Special Agent Booth…if he's not busy…" he didn't seem intimidated by Hodgins. Though anyone had to admit if the young man compared himself to others solely on physical aspects it would take a lot to intimidate him. He was all muscles and carefully disguised fighting prowess.

"Sure, come on over. You're actually doing me a huge favor. Booth's been hovering for over an hour now and keeps on stuffing up my concentration." Hodgins spoke, leading the two over to the platform.

The boy went to follow him up the stairs but the man glanced at him. Something passed between the two that Booth couldn't pick up on but the boy didn't set foot on the first step. He was craning his neck to see onto the platform though. He turned to the man with eager eyes.

"Dean, can I go up there, please? I promise I'll be good and I won't get in the way. Please?" the boy asked softly.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know Sammy. You better ask the good doctor over there if she'll let you in her work area…" Dean pointed with his eyes at Brennan.

Sam's eyes grew wide. "Dr Brennan, wow. I never thought I'd actually meet you. I've read your books. I really enjoyed them…"

Brennan smiled tightly at Sam. "Yes, I quite enjoy murder mysteries myself. Though I wonder what a boy your age is doing reading it…?"

He shook his head. "Not the fictional book, it was good though. Your autobiography. And a couple of your textbooks."

Brennan looked stunned. "Well, why don't you come on up and have a look at what we do?" Sam looked over his shoulder at Dean.

"Just put a pair of gloves on in case you touch something by accident." Dean replied, staying at the bottom of the stairs. Brennan couldn't believe how responsible the young man was. Not only was he looking after the young boy but he was also protecting her evidence from him.

"You're more than welcome to come up as well, Dean. I don't mind." Brennan added, seeing he was hanging back.

He walked up the steps and found an empty corner on the platform immediately, leaning against the metal rail. Booth watched him for a moment. Dean seemed to be overly disinterested but Booth could see he was listening to what the team was saying and understood it as well. He walked over to the stranger.

"Dean? I'm Special Agent Booth. You told Hodgins that you wanted to see me…" Booth spoke, leaning against the rail beside Dean.

He nodded. "My father sent me. Said you guys were in the war together. His name is John Winchester."

Booth's eyes went wide. "I haven't heard from your dad in years. How is he? And your mother? I only met her once or twice but she was nice."

Dean's eyes went empty, watching Sam closely as he studied Brennan. "Our mother died years ago. House fire, when Sammy was six months old."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. How old are you two anyway?" Booth asked, realizing Dean didn't like to speak about his mother.

"I'm eighteen, Sammy's twelve. Look, Dad said you might listen to what I need to tell you. But I can't tell you in front of other people." His eyes scanned the room in a manner Booth recognized. He was checking for dangers. "Sammy! Don't you touch that leg bone."

Booth glanced over at the boy to see him snatch his hand back. He hadn't intended to touch the bone but Dean's sharp eye had prevented it. Dean glanced around and saw an empty stool, he pointed to it and Sam sat down out of the way.

Brennan shot Dean a thankful look before going back to her work. Hodgins shook his head and went back to looking at slime through a microscope. Booth looked back at Dean. "Come on, we can talk in Bones' office."

"Sammy, your butt stays glued to that chair unless they ask you to move it." Dean said, following Booth.

xxx

They had been helping Booth for several months when Dean got a phone call, standing on the platform with the entire team. He checked the caller ID and snapped the phone to his ear. "Dad? What's going on? You were supposed to meet up with us months ago…" he stopped talking and his shoulders pulled back. He was so tense everyone stopped working to look at him. "Yes, sir. I'll take care of it. No, sir, he's been good. Yes, sir. Of course I'll take care of Sammy." He turned around, to hand the phone to his little brother.

"Dad? When are you coming to get us? Guess what? I met Dr Brennan and her team. Bye Dad." Sam's voice quivered.

Dean leant over and took the phone off him. He put the phone away and took hold of his brother's shoulders, looking him in the eye. "Sammy…Dad's dying."

The boy shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. "NO! Dad can't die. Dad's always there. No, you're lying."

Dean closed his eyes. "Sammy, he's got cancer. He's only got a couple of weeks left but he's in so much pain…he's going to Bobby's and he's going to finish it…"

"No, he's coming to pick us up and we're going to a motel. No!" Sam shook his head. Dean pulled him close, rubbing circles on his little brother's back.

"Sammy, out of everything that matters, have I ever lied to you? You asked me about mum and I told you the truth. You asked me about monsters and I told you everything. You asked me to teach you and I did my best." He stepped back and looked his little brother in the eyes. "Sammy, Dad's dying."

Sam burst into sobs, clinging to Dean and shaking his head. Trying to deny it. Trying to find some way out of it.

The entire team was staring at Dean. His last conversation with his father had been orders. The last words his father had said to him had been to watch over his brother. For a young man about to lose his father he was taking this very well.


End file.
